Summer of Freedom
by meixel
Summary: A murder close to home teams Mike Stone and Steve Keller with Chief Ironside and his assistants. Can they figure out who is behind the murder before tragedy strikes again?
1. Chapter 1

**a/n **I don't own SOSF or Ironside: they definitely belong to someone else. No profit of any kind is being made here. Story writing continues to be for fun and skill development.

This is a 'what happens later' (about 2 years) after Rampage, a SOSF episode from season 2. This crosses over with Ironside.

* * *

**Summer of Freedom**

* * *

**An alley in the South Embarcadero area**

**January, 1976 **

The first person Lieutenant Mike Stone saw as he surveyed the crime scene was Medical Examiner Bernie Bradley. _"How does he do that? He's always one step ahead of me._" Mike said under his breath as he looked out the rain spotted window of the unmarked tan police car.

Responding with only a polite grin, Bill Tanner sat in the driver's seat normally occupied by Inspector Steve Keller. Tanner, a very capable detective in his own right, also worked at the Bureau of Inspectors. His usual duties included handling legwork for Stone and Keller as well as domestic murder cases.

Today, Detective Tanner served as Mike's partner while the Inspector was away on a ski holiday. Tanner appreciated the opportunity to work directly with Mike, which at the moment brought them to the murder scene in an alley on the city's south side.

"What do you have, Bernie?" Mike asked the Medical Examiner as he approached the dumpster that hid the corpse from the main view of the alley.

The tall, balding coroner closed his notepad and stuffed it in his coat pocket. The cold damp wind caused Bernie to shudder. "A black male in his early to mid thirties. Looks like he was shot by a large caliber handgun, Mike: two bullets to the chest at close range. He was probably dead before he hit the ground."

"Can you tell when the shooting occurred?" Mike asked as he watched a uniformed police officer carefully cover the body with a white sheet.

"Not yet, but I have an idea he's been dead for well over a day, if not longer. Rigor mortis has set in and there's a bit of decay occurring around the wounds. We'll be able to tell more once I get him back to the shop."

"Any ID?" Tanner asked.

"Nothing on the man. Perhaps he was robbed."

"Tanner, touch base with the beat cops here and see what you can find out. There's always something going on in this area. See if there was a report of any disturbance in the last day or so."

"Got it, Mike," Bill responded.

"Bernie, we'll need to get a photo passed around to help identify the victim. After you get him cleaned up, have one of your boys do the honors."

"Sure, Mike. I'll get the photo out as soon as possible."

Just then, a large white van pulled behind Stone and Tanner's car. A young black man urgently exited the driver's side and opened the rear passenger door. A minute later, a wheelchair carrying Chief Robert Ironside rolled toward Stone and the ME.

"Bob?" Stone was surprised to see the Special Projects Lead and former police chief.

"Mike, good to see you," he frowned as he looked around the alley. "Although, I wish it would be under different circumstances."

"I know what you mean. What brings you here, Chief?"

"You've met Mark, right? Until a year or so ago, he was my assistant." Ironside nodded towards the van driver, who was clearly preoccupied.

Mike nodded his head. "I remember. It's good to see you again." Mike began to extend his hand, but Mark's gaze was fixed on the body behind the dumpster.

Ironside noticed his companion's preoccupation. "Mark and I heard the call on the radio. Mark is concerned it might be his cousin, so we came over."

That was Mark's cue to walk over to the corpse as both men looked on. A uniformed officer attempted to stop him, but the Chief cut in. "It's all right, officer. He's with me. He may know the victim."

The police officer nodded and carefully lifted the sheet to reveal the body. Mark knelt at his side, "Aw, man. Not you, Joe!" Mark said quietly to the corpse. "What are we going to tell Corbie?" He put his hands over his eyes and lowered his head.

"That doesn't look good," Mike commented from a distance in a quiet voice. "Must be his cousin?"

"I presume. The man's wife called Mark and said he was missing about a day ago." the Chief added empathetically as he began to roll his chair toward his aide. Mike looked over to the Chief and noticed his upper arm strength as he spun the wheels forward. In certain circumstances, Mike would have offered to push the wheelchair for the man, but this was not one of those times. The Chief needed to show his independence and strength to the other officers on the scene as well as the young man before him.

"Mark?" the Chief asked delicately.

"Yeah, Chief, it's him. It's my cousin." Mark looked down and shook his head. "He was a good man. Why would anyone do this?"

Mike stepped forward to console the young man, "I don't know, Mark. But we will do everything we can to find out."

* * *

**Bureau of Inspectors**

Mike handed Mark a cup of coffee as he sat at an empty desk in the middle of the squad room. The Chief stayed alongside the former assistant, now attorney.

"Mark, what can you tell me about your cousin?" Mike began. "What was his name and address, for starters?"

"It was Joplin. Joseph Joplin. He lived off of King Street near the Embarcadero with his wife and son."

The name rang a loud bell with Mike, but he couldn't quite place why. "Joplin, Joplin." Mike said as he snapped his fingers. "Why do I know that name?"

"I don't know, sir. He was a carpenter. He always worked hard and tried to do the right thing for his family."

"Bill, go run a name for me: 'Joseph Joplin'. See what you can bring up," Mike ordered.

Mark was disappointed to hear the request. "He was clean, man. Don't go assuming because he's a brother that there's something wrong."

"Mark…" the Chief stopped the young man.

Recognizing he had triggered a defensive reaction, Mike responded diplomatically. "I'm sorry, Mark. It's just that his name rings a bell with me and I can't remember why. Perhaps he filed a complaint against someone or was in the papers for something. We see people from all sides of life here."

Mark looked down and nodded.

Mike continued his questioning. "Didn't the Chief here mention that someone called and told you he was missing?"

"Yes, his wife called and was frantic. She said that he didn't make it home the night before last."

"Any enemies?"

"None that I'm aware of, but if it was a mugging or robbery gone bad, it could have been anyone," Mark replied.

"Did your cousin typically carry a lot of money or valuables?"

"Joe? No, sir. He was very careful with what he did. He and his family lived a modest life. Corb…," Mark interrupted himself. "Chief, someone needs to tell Joe's wife."

Ironside knew the best way for the young widow to hear about her husband's death would be from Mark. "Mike, I'm going to send Mark and Sergeant Brown to speak with Joplin's wife and break the news to her. I know this is your beat here, but I want my team assist you in anyway possible with this case."

Mike hesitated for a moment, but knew that the case would be in good hands, "That's fine, Bob. You can have your team work with Detective Tanner. He's been talking with the responding officers and the local guys to see if there's been any problems. I'll have him bring over anything that he's found."

"I appreciate that, Mike," Ironside nodded his head. "Come along, Mark. We're not going to do much good here. We'll brief Ed on the situation and await Detective Tanner."

* * *

**A couple hours later….**

Bill Tanner walked back to Stone's office with a file in hand. "Hey, Mike, I have a profile on Joseph Joplin."

"Excellent, Bill. What did you find out?"

"Well, he's been clean for well over ten years. He's married with a child and has worked as a carpenter since college. Nothing at all exciting, except for this." Bill led.

"What?"

"He has a police record in Mississippi. The authorities sent the file over via telex. It's for assault with a deadly weapon back in 1964. He was sentenced to 1-10 years. You want to read the name of his victim?"

Mike looked at the file and then gave Bill an annoyed glance. He hated guessing games. He didn't know anyone from Mississippi, yet there was something about this case that was very familiar. Now here it was in black and white as Mike read the file:

"_On June 10, 1964, Joseph Miles Joplin, 23, was arrested for the assault of a white male, aged 19, at a disturbance outside of Jackson. Joplin was found to have started the fight and punched the victim numerous times in the face and body. He then produced a switchblade knife and stabbed the victim in the arm. The victim suffered multiple contusions and a laceration requiring fourteen stitches." _

Mike pulled the picture of the victim and stared at the image. He squinted for a moment as he processed what he saw. The black and white photo showed a teenager with short hair, a bruised eye and swollen jaw. There was also an oddly defiant look on the face which seemed incongruent to a young man who had just been assaulted. "Bill, would you look at that?"

Bill didn't know how Mike would react to the finding, so he kept his comments to himself.

"Buddy boy," Mike smiled proudly before remembering the gravity of the case. "Of course! Joe Joplin. He was Steve's friend from Berkeley. They went down to Mississippi as part of the Freedom Summer in '64. They had heard about how the local authorities were causing problems with the voter registrations that were happening throughout the state. Sometimes it went as far as police brutality, so some of the college kids decided to see first hand what was going on. Joe clobbered Steve in order to get arrested."

"Looks like it worked," Bill commented dryly. The mug shot of Joplin, along with a picture of his colleague after the beating, were included in the file.

"Yes, Steve told me about it a couple of years ago while we were working a case in Joe's neighborhood. I met him and his wife then: good people. Joe's murder is going to devastate Steve. He was very fond of Joe." Mike continued to study the file. "Would you look at that picture? I thought he looked like a kid when I first met him, but this takes the cake."

"It's the short hair. No wonder he wears it longer now," Bill smirked as he looked at his coworker's picture and then became serious when he thought about what was going on in the mid-sixties. "What a time that was back then. I had graduated the academy and just started out as a patrolman. I remember thinking that I had more opportunities here in California than I could have had down south. It wasn't a perfect situation, but I certainly didn't have anyone preventing me from voting or forcing me to sit in the back of the trolley."

Mike nodded at the detective. Bill Tanner, along with Lee Lessing, had been one of the first black homicide detectives in the Bureau of Inspectors. Mike felt that having a diverse squad room was long overdue and couldn't think of finer candidates than Tanner or Lessing. Mike knew that not everyone had been so accepting of integration within the department, but those who hassled men like Lessing and Tanner weren't long to stay.

Mike finished reading the file summary aloud:

'_The victim, Steven Keller of Modesto, California, was treated at the local medical center (Lincoln Hospital) and released the next morning. It was discovered that both men traveled together as part of a college group from near San Francisco. The victim did not press charges, but Joplin was tried, convicted and sentenced to 1-10 years in Yazoo City Medium. The sentence was reduced to time served three months later.'_"

* * *

(tbc)

a/n - In "Rampage", Steve crosses paths with a former college friend, Joe Joplin. At one point, Mike mentions that Joe and Steve went down to Mississippi as part of the 'Freedom Rides'. The 'Freedom Rides' were an important part of US Civil Rights history - where people came to parts of the South to ride mass transit in order to purposely break the segration rules that were put in place to prohibit blacks and whites sitting together.

The main year for this was 1961 (before Steve's college time) - but the rides continued to a lesser extent until 1968. However in 1964, several students from Berkeley went to Mississippi to help with voter registration for the upcoming presidential election. That was known as the "Freedom Summer" and seemed very plausible for the canon.


	2. Chapter 2

Making a right turn onto Union, Steve pulled alongside the curb closest to his apartment. The drive from Tahoe had been frustratingly slow due to the icy roads, but he considered himself lucky to have made it through the mountain passes at all. He would not relish the idea of telling Mike he'd been delayed by weather. Mike never took vacations, so he opted to keep his occasionally extended weekends to the mountains decidedly low key.

Steve began unlatching his skis from the car brackets when he saw the too familiar tan LTD pull up behind him. This would be the second time that Mike acted as a one man welcoming committee after a ski weekend. The last time, Mike drafted Steve for an undercover assignment. Observing the expression on the older man's face as he exited the vehicle and walked toward his Porsche, Steve felt an odd pang in the pit of his stomach. He knew this would not be another undercover opportunity. _Something has happened._

"Everything okay?" Steve greeted Mike cautiously.

Hedging a bit, Mike instead decided to make small talk. "I see you got back in one piece. No broken arms or sprained ankles?"

"No broken bones and no concussions; just a slight hangover from a couple nights ago." Steve grinned.

"Meet any snow bunnies?" Mike returned the smile.

"Of course, I did. They were all over the slopes."

"Uh-huh. But none that followed you home I see," Mike said as he looked around.

"No one followed, but one did ride alongside. I dropped her off at her apartment in Knob Hill. Her name is Bunny, oddly enough. Cute little blonde…"

Mike sighed and shook his head. He didn't know if Steve was kidding or not, but at this point, it wasn't important. He needed to break the news of his friend's murder, and he knew it wouldn't be easy.

Steve could easily read past the chit chat. It was uncharacteristic of Mike. "I'm thinking that this isn't just a social call, Mike. Did something happen?"

"Let me help you with your luggage and skis. I'll tell you about it when we get inside."

That statement did not make Steve feel anymore at ease. He handed Mike his bag, but now the grin was gone. "Is it one of the guys at the station?" Steve asked as he balanced his skis on his shoulder while they walked up the steps.

"No, the guys are fine."

"Jeannie? Did something happen to her?" Steve asked anxiously.

"Do you think I'd be standing here holding your suitcase if something had happened to my daughter?" Mike was unintentionally defensive in his response.

"Guess not." Steve said as he fished his apartment keys from his coat pocket. He unlocked the door and ushered Mike inside. After propping his skis against the wall, he grabbed the luggage from Mike's hand and pointed to the sofa. "Thanks. Have a seat. I'll be back in a second" He dumped the luggage in his bedroom and then took off his coat and scarf and plopped them on the bed. Finally, he made his way back to the front room and took his place in a chair opposite Mike.

"Layoffs?" he asked nervously.

"What?" Mike was not expecting that question.

"Am I getting laid off? You know, budget cuts." The economic stresses of the seventies had caught up with the city. Layoffs was a fear that many had.

"No, nothing like that. You're fine." Mike said as he tried to come up with a good way to break the news. "Steve, I don't quite know how to say this, so here goes. Your friend, Joe Joplin, was found murdered yesterday. The autopsy showed that he was killed a couple of days ago. Tanner is working the case jointly with Chief Ironside's team." Mike saw the shocked look spread across his partner's face. "Steve, I'm sorry. I know he was a good friend and you two had quite a history."

Steve looked down and ran his hand through his hair. "I wasn't expecting that." He closed his eyes and let the words sink in. Since the case two years ago, Steve and Joe had reconnected. Steve had been a guest at the Joplin house on a few occasions. Joe and his wife, Corbie, lived a stable life made all the more safe by Joe's efforts, especially after he learned he could work with the police. "How, Mike?"

"Shot twice. It looks like it was close range. Joe never stood a chance." Mike sat on the edge of the sofa and was uncomfortable. Conversations such as these were a part of the job, but in this instance it was made all the more difficult being so close to home.

"Corbie. How is she doing? My God, they have a little boy." Steve's voice wavered at the end.

"I'm not sure if you knew this, but one of Joe's cousin is Mark Sanger. You remember him from when he worked with Chief Ironside? Anyway, he's taking care of Corbie and the boy."

"That's good. I'm glad there's family around. But who could have done such a thing? Could it have been someone getting back at him for the work he did to clean up his neighborhood? Not everyone was happy with what he did."

"So far, we have nothing," Mike began as he recalled the events of the prior day in detail for Steve.

"Mike, I want to help. Give me a minute to get changed."

"Hold on there, Buddy boy. We've got solid expertise on the case already. You heard me say that Chief Ironside is involved. Plus, Bill is working on it for our team."

"I know, but I just can't sit here and do nothing."

"And you're not going to 'do nothing'. You are going to go see Corbie and find out if she needs anything. When you come into to the station tomorrow, I have other cases for you to work on. Sure, we'll keep you posted on what's happening, but you are too close to the situation."

"But Mike, that's not fair. I can help."

"I know you want to, but Joe was too good of a friend. Tell you what," Mike said as he sought compromise to what he knew would become a bigger battle. "Why don't you change into your work clothes and I'll take you to see Corbie. Then we'll find out what Ironside's team and Bill have been doing. Okay?"

In no time, the pair was on their way to the Joplin's apartment.

* * *

As Mike and Steve knocked on the Joplins' apartment door, Sergeant Ed Brown, right hand man to Chief Robert Ironside, answered the door.

"Mike, come on in," the tall, brown eyed Sergeant said as he extended his hand. In his late thirties, Ed looked slim and fit. It had been nearly ten years since he went to work for the Chief. Mike figured the man had the patience of a saint.

"You remember Steve, don't you?" Mike offered.

"It's been a few years, but yes. Good to see you, Steve," Ed replied as he shook Keller's hand. "Mark is here as well. He's in the other room with Corbie."

Steve said nothing, but nodded his head and gave a slight smile. He looked through a doorway to see Joe's widow sitting at the dining room table.

"Steve!" the lone woman's voice called out. She rushed over to her husband's friend and they quickly embraced.

"Corbie, I'm so sorry. I just heard."

"I can't believe it's happened. Steve, after all that we've been through and now this. It was straight out of nowhere." Joe's widow was a petite and attractive African-American, with dark round eyes and short hair.

"I can't believe it either. Corbie, I know you've answered everyone's questions over and over again, but could you just answer something for me?"

"Sure, Steve, what?"

"Any idea at all who did this? Any warning signs?"

"Warning signs? No."

"Any strange calls? Was Joe nervous about something?"

"No, none of that. He was out taking his daily walk. You know, he wanted to make sure everything was okay in the neighborhood, plus he was getting his exercise that way. He did it every evening, but then, two nights ago, he didn't come home. That's all there was to it! The next thing I know, Mark and Sergeant Brown were knocking on my door." Recalling their visit, Corbie broke down.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. You two deserved better than this." Steve replied. Mike, Ed and Mark left the pair to console each other and stepped into the other room.

Corbie remained in Steve's embrace. He allowed her to get through the crying she needed to do. After a couple of minutes, she found her voice: "What am I going to do, Steve?"

"I don't know. But whatever you need, you know I'll be there for you."

"I know, thank you. Joe thought so highly of you."

"Believe me, it was mutual."

Ed wanted to get back to the Chief. He also knew that Mark had an appointment that he needed to make. "Corbie, Mark and I should be going. If you remember anything, please let one of us know. "

"Sure, thank you so much. I need to pick up Joey, anyway in a few minutes. He's at his aunt's."

"Would you like for me to go with you?" Steve asked.

"I appreciate it, Steve, but I really want Joey to have as much normalcy here as possible. There are so many people coming in and out of here. I just want this to be a quiet haven for him."

"I understand. If you need anything, please let me know."

* * *

The foursome bid Corbie farewell and made their way down to the sidewalk in front of the apartment.

Ed wanted to give Mike an update on what Bill was doing, so the two pairs stopped to talk on the sidewalk before going their separate ways. "Bill is working with the phone company both at the Joplin's and at Joe's workshop, trying to understand if there was someone who was trying to make contact with him."

"Do you have any other leads at all?"

"We have the ballistic reports in." Hearing Ed talk about the murder weapon, both Mark and Steve listened in. "We found out that the gun was…"

Ed's words were interrupted by three gunshots. The first one hit the ground in front of Steve's feet. Steve looked up over at a building from across the street and yelled, "On the rooftop!".

The second bullet caught him in the arm. He spun around and hit the sidewalk hard. Mark, who had been facing Steve, turned around to see where the shots were originating. Before he could say a word, another bullet caught the young attorney in the upper thigh. The burning sensation got the best of Mark, as his knees buckled from under him.

"Let's get them behind the car!" Mike yelled out to Sergeant Brown. Mike dove over and grabbed Steve from behind. He dragged him to the rear of the LTD and out of the sniper's way. Ed did the same with Mark, being careful not to further injure his leg. Both men were conscious, but dazed.

With his gun pulled, Mike looked up over the car to see if he could see anyone from the adjacent rooftop. The shooting had stopped. Seconds later they heard tires squeal from the next block over. "Call for back-ups," Mike ordered Ed, "and an ambulance."


	3. Chapter 3

"What are you doing, Keller?" Ed asked harshly as he saw the detective lean against the back end of the LTD while he struggled to stand.

"I'm all right. I'm going to find Mike. He's gone over there alone," Steve said breathlessly, still slightly dazed as he nodded to the next block over. "He needs back-up."

"He needs you to stay put. I've already called for back-up, and they'll be here in no time. An ambulance is on its way to take you and Mark to the hospital," Ed answered rather sharply. Ed had been applying pressure to bleeding wound on Mark's leg. The attorney was in pain, but holding his own. Still, the worry for his former colleague had left little room for patience where the young Inspector was concerned.

"This is nothing but a crease. It just knocked the wind out of me for a second," Steve was benefiting from an adrenalin boost as tried his best bravado. "I'm going over there." Keller was standing upright, but staggered as he took a step forward. He quickly regained his balance and hoped that no one had seen him stumble.

"Does it burn?" Ed asked.

"What? Yeah, some."

"That's because the bullet is still in your arm. It's more than a crease. You stay put or I'll cuff your good arm to the car." Ed's even tone belied his frustration.

Mark looked up at his friend and former colleague. He still had great admiration for Ed, perhaps even more so now that Ed had moved in with the Chief while Mark began a new chapter in his life as a husband and a lawyer. To Steve, he remarked, "You'd better listen to him, man. I've been on the wrong side of an argument with the Sergeant before. He may seem calm and cool on the outside, but believe me, you don't want to go there." His voice was strained with pain, but he showed a slight smile.

Corbie heard the shooting and opened the front door when she saw her husband's cousin lying on the curb beside the car. "Mark, oh my God! You've been shot!"

Mark worried about Corbie's safety. He lifted his head up slightly and called over to her. "Babe, you stay inside. We don't know who the shooter is or where he could be right now."

"Do you need me to call an ambulance?" she asked.

"I radioed for one," Ed clarified. "Stay inside until we give you the all clear." She quickly shut and locked the door.

Ed tried to put some logic around the situation. "Someone here was the target. It could have been to get to Corbie, or it could have been Mark or you, Steve."

The three heard sirens which were growing louder. Steve was relieved to see the police back-up for Mike. Ed instructed the uniformed officers to meet Mike on the next block. He looked over to Steve with annoyance. "You can relax now." Steve returned the annoyed look with one of his own.

The ambulance came moments later. Two attendants were there to prepare the two shooting victims to be transported to the nearby hospital. Mark was treated first as they started an IV and took his vital signs. Steve watched on as he leaned against the car, still grasping his left arm. He didn't hear Mike walk beside him.

"You okay?" Mike asked as he saw the blood trickle through his partner's fingers. "How's the arm?"

"I'm fine." Steve defended himself. "It's just a scratch."

Mike could see the young man was bluffing. "Let me see." He pulled his hand away from the injury and saw one entry wound. There was no exit wound nor was there a straight line indicating the bullet had not penetrated. "It's in there all right."

"No, it'll be fine…" Before Steve could finish, Mike pulled out a folded handkerchief and placed it inside his partner's jacket trying to position it over the wound.

"Enough," Steve whispered as he retracted his arm. The pressure renewed the burning pain.

Mike shook his head as he opened the car door and helped his partner sit in the front seat to wait for the attendants. "That's some scratch."

* * *

Officer Fran Belding and the Chief entered the emergency room and looked for anyone familiar. Ed phoned them earlier about the shooting and was waiting for them to arrive while Mark was in surgery. He rose and walked toward the pair.

"Any leads?" the Chief asked after inquiring about his former aide.

"Not yet." Ed proceeded to recap the events around the shooting.

"It would be logical to conclude that the target was Mark or perhaps it was to send a message to Corbie."

"What more of a message do they need to send her, Chief? They've already killed her husband." Fran reminded them.

"Fran, I want you to stay with Corbie until we find out whose behind this mess. Ed's got the address," the Chief instructed as he saw Mike Stone entering into the waiting area.

"On it, Chief," Fran replied.

Ironside wheeled himself to meet the senior homicide detective. "Mike, Ed said that Steve was also hit. How is he?"

"He'll be fine. The bullet is in his upper left arm, but didn't appear to have done much damage. It will be sore for a while, but he should be back to 100% in no time."

"That's good. Mark's in surgery now. Sounds like both men were lucky not to have been more seriously injured. Now, what in blazes is going on? One man dead, two others shot."

"I found the shell casings on the rooftop where the shooter was. This was done with a rifle."

Ed joined in on the conversation. "The Joplin shooting was a handgun. Could it have been two separate incidents?"

"You mean a coincidence? I don't believe in those, Ed. You know that. Fran is going to stay with Joplin's wife. I want a guard on both our boys' rooms here. Until we understand the connection, I don't want any of them at risk."

* * *

Billy Ray Dean turned off the radio and called over to his brother who sat dozing in the passenger seat of the rental car, as they sat across the street from the home of Professor Ruth Goldman. "I'm gettin' a little stir crazy sittin' in this here car, Harper. It's been three days since we blowed away Joplin and yesterday we shot the scrawny pinko kid, along with the 'brother'."

"Yes, and thanks to your piss poor shooting, Keller is still alive. You were a sharpshooter in 'Nam. What happened to you?"

"He moved. They all moved. Get the hell off my back, Harper." Billy Ray answered defensively as he fiddled with the radio. "What are we going to do next?"

"Patience. Since that scrawny pinko is now a police officer and a homicide detective, to boot, his cop buddies will be all over him with protection. Now, he wasn't too badly hurt. My hunch is that he'll turn up at Joplin's funeral."

Billy Ray chuckled. "Then it will be like fish in a barrel. You know that all those commies will be at the funeral; they'll mourn Joplin just like he was King. We should just waste them all then."

"First things first, Billy Ray. I still have a score to settle with Keller. Also that bitch, Professor Goldman. I got sent away 'cause of them. They had no business coming down to Mississippi like they did. A bunch of bleeding hearts. I lost my wife and child 'cause of them, and they will pay. Joplin's done. We'll finish Keller off and we'll get Goldman too. After that, it's gravy.'"

Professor Ruth Goldman pulled up alongside her condo and exited her vehicle. Seconds later, Billy Ray and Harper left their car with a handgun in tow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Happy New Year! ** This story took a break as we did some seasonal writing for the SOSF fandom.

* * *

It was procedure for area homicide information to be compiled and released to the appropriate authorities at each of the local municipalities. For San Francisco proper, that authority was Mike Stone. The morning after Steve's and Mark's shooting, the report of a Berkeley professor's killing crossed Mike's desk. He reviewed the file carefully.

Anytime anything had to do with the University of California at Berkeley, his first thought was Steve. As a student and then alumni, Steve embodied the persona of the college since the mid-sixties. He was pro-civil rights, anti-war and very liberal, as was the school. Steve was still very connected to the school, having both students and professors as friends. _Students, like Joe Joplin_, Mike thought. He wondered if Steve knew Professor Goldman.

Mike called the Berkeley detective working on the Goldman case and shared that Joplin, a former Berkeley student, had recently been killed. He also informed his colleague about his partner and Ironside's former aide both being shot and wondered aloud if there was a connection.

Detective Hartman responded, "Professor Goldman was a law instructor. According to her record, she'd been tenured and had taught there for fifteen years. She was very popular on campus."

"Do you know if she was active in the Freedom Rides or the Freedom Summer?" Mike asked.

"Both. According to the other professors I interviewed, she was a strong advocate for civil rights. She'd made several trips down south for that very reason. She went year after year. Why? Do you think there's a connection?"

"Well, in the words of Chief Ironside, "I don't believe in coincidences." Joplin had gone to Mississippi in 1964 along with one of the men, Steve Keller, who had been shot yesterday. Joplin was arrested for assaulting Keller, but it was a set-up to see the corruption of the local police first hand. Now, we need to know if Professor Goldman's killing is linked."

"Ballistics. You said the one was killed point blank by a handgun. Let's see if there's a match there. In the meantime, let me check out the others who were shot and see if there's a link to Professor Goldman. Perhaps they were in one of her classes."

"Good thinking," Mike concluded as he gave the detail information to Detective Hartman.

Mike knew the next stop for him would be back at the hospital. If Steve knew who Goldman was, that would be a hard, but necessary, conversation."

SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF

Steve watched the noontime news from the bed in the hospital room he shared with Mark Sanger. Both men were lucky as their injuries were not as serious as they could have been. Steve could be released at anytime. Mark, they knew, would be in the hospital a couple more days with his leg injury.

"_And from overnight in Berkeley, reports of the murder of popular law professor Ruth Goldman at her home. The fifty eight year old was apparently the victim of a burglary gone wrong."_

Steve was numb to the news. _First, Joe and now Ruth Goldman_. He knew Ruth very well. She was a kind woman who encouraged him to stand up for his beliefs and his own career goals. She had been a mentor to him during his time at Berkeley.

The numbness and shock gave way to profound sadness. He thought back through the years, especially his college time, when he was practically a member of the Goldman family. Rattled, he reasoned he was doing no one any good while in the hospital. His injuries were minimal. It was then when Steve realized he had no IV or catheter to keep him tethered to the bed. As a result, he simply got up and headed to the closet in search for his street clothes.

"What are you doing?" Mark asked suspiciously.

"Time for me to go," Steve said simply as he quickly slid into his slacks. The gown had allowed for some modesty as he made the change. Now he whipped off the gown and looked at the tattered and bloodstained shirt hanging in the closet.

"You need to be formally discharged, man. You can't just put your clothes on and leave."

"You're right. Actually, I'm going to put on your clothes - at least the shirt. That way, I won't draw any attention."

"The nurses will catch you and they'll raise holy hell. Where are you going to go anyway?"

"Look, that Professor they were talking about on the news. Man, I don't have time to explain. Just trust me on this." Steve finished buttoning his purloined shirt and found his wallet and badge in the top drawer on the small bedside dresser. "I gotta go."

"Where are you going, Keller?" Mark asked more forcefully.

"Ruth's daughter, Sarah," Steve appeared distracted at her name. "Joe and the Professor - the link is the trip to Mississippi in '64."

"So you were the target yesterday?"

"Probably so."

Mark figured the best thing to do was to keep Steve talking. Surely a nurse or doctor would come through and convince him to stay. "Steve, what happened down there? Joe never talked about it."

"Well, you know that some of the cops were corrupt. Some were hired hands of politicians and businessmen who thought it was in their best interest to stop the voter registration rallies. People went missing; some turned up dead. Joe wanted to see what was going on first hand. He set up this scheme with Ruth Goldman that involved him attacking me. Once he was arrested, Ruth was able to track Joe and find out what was going on."

"How?"

"She had sewed a wire in his undershirt and got his first few hours on tape."

"What did that prove?"

"One of the cops assaulted Joe while we were down there. It was bad, real bad. He was beating him into confessing not only assaulting me, but others. And it was just the tip of the iceberg. The guy was a hired hand to one of the politicians down there. He was being paid to intimidate and terrorize."

"Man, I don't know whether to be proud of Joe or to be mad that he took such risks."

"Be proud of him. He was brave. You know that even after Ruth found someone safe to talk to, the justice system in that town, such that it was, sentenced him for beating me. Ruth had to pull strings to get Joe released."

"And now you think that someone went after Joe? And you and this professor?"

"I'd be interested to find out if the cop who beat Joe has been released lately. Look, man, I have to go. I want to make sure that Ruth's daughter is okay."

"Steve, wait!" Mark called out as he watched the young man exit the room. _"Man, I don't want to be you when Stone finds out you are gone."_


	5. Chapter 5

**a/n: **thanks for the kind reviews and support!

* * *

Mike Stone walked through the hospital corridor in anticipation of discussing Professor Ruth Goldman's murder with his partner. If Steve indeed knew the professor, it would not be a pleasant conversation. With the death of a dear friend followed the next day with a shooting, Mike knew that Steve nerves were likely frayed.

He also wondered how he and his hospital roommate, Mark Sanger, were getting along and whether or not Chief Ironside had paid a visit to the pair recently. Perhaps he'd welcome a more familiar face.

The door to their room was closed, but Mike could hear voices.

"Fool!" Ironside hissed to Mark. "That young man is a fool and a disgrace to the force. He may be the target of these gunman and yet he leaves."

Mike stood outside the door, perplexed at the Chief's assertions.

"It's not that he _may_ be the target. He admitted that he probably is," Mark informed Ironside.

Ed had planted himself on Steve's empty bed and took it all in. "He's reckless. He was going to leave the scene of the shooting to find Stone. I had to threaten him with handcuffs."

Mike swallowed as the pit of his gut began to ache. Where was Steve? It's not like him to be in so much trouble. He lightly tapped on the door and then let himself in.

Mike felt the glare of the three men as he peered over to the bed opposite Mark. "Where is he?" he directed his question to the injured man.

"Hell, if I know, Stone. He saw on the news that a professor he knew was murdered. Then he took my shirt, said he was going to visit this chick and took off." Mark replied in an aggravated tone.

Stunned, Mike pressed for more information. "There had to be more than that. What did he say, exactly?"

Mark took a deep breath and calmed himself. "He told me there had to be a connection between the Professor's murder and Joe's. He said that it probably had to be the trip to Mississippi they all made in '64. He mentioned that there was a cop who got sent away as a result of what happened to Joe down there."

"So he has an idea who did this," Mike said as he processed the news.

"Man, then he got up and left. Said he needed to see the Professor's daughter." Mark concluded.

"Keller should have stayed here," Ed began.

"I know that," Stone cut him off sharply.

"That partner of yours has taken leave of his senses, Mike" Ironside began as he took control of the conversation. "Does he usually go off half cocked?"

Mike went quiet for a moment. "No, not at all." _Sure, he can be impetuous. "_He's a fine young man and a damn good cop. I've had no problems with him. For him to do this must mean that he's very worried."

"He has a reputation, you know, Mike." Ironside baited the senior homicide detective.

"What are you talking about?"

"Women. If there's a skirt involved, suddenly his brain shuts down. Perhaps this daughter of Professor Goldman is some sweet young thing whom he felt compelled to protect."

"No, it's not that simple," Mike defended. Although in the back of Mike's mind, he wondered what on earth would possess his partner to leave without the protection he apparently needed. "It can't be."

"Well, I suggest you go find your prodigal son before the gunman do," Ironside warned. "Ed, you go with Stone. When you catch up with Romeo, get him to talk and tell you about the cop who got sent away for beating Joplin. I'll wait for Lessing. He was going to meet us here with any news on the Joplin case."

"Yes, sir," came Ed's response. Mike said nothing. He was in no position to argue.

SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF

_Of all the asinine things for him to do,_ Mike thought to himself as they left the hospital parking lot. _A murder investigation and I have to go track him down at some girl's home. And with Chief Ironside's right hand man, no less. _Mike stole a quick glance to Ed Brown who stared straight ahead in the passenger seat.

_And then to leave the hospital 'against medical advice'. He'll have to answer for that one and not just to me. Rudy will be all over his ass. It's just not done._

Mike and Ed had called Detective Hartman to get information on Professor Goldman's next of kin before they left the hospital. There was indeed a daughter who lived in Berkeley. Mike was able to obtain her address, but little information on her. The daughter's name was Sarah Goldman, which indicated to Mike that she was unmarried. _Although with women today, you can never tell, _Mike grumbled to himself. _And the way Steve is sometimes, I don't think it would register one way or the other._

Steve was a bright detective and almost always spot on in his analyses on cases. The exceptions had indeed been when women were involved. The case involving Drea McCormick was top of mind. She had attended the Police Academy with Steve. When leaked information resulted in the murder of a mob informant, Steve was the absolute last one to figure out or accept her guilt. _Was it loyalty to a friend or did he truly have a blind side when it came to women?_

Mike shook his head in response to his own thoughts and proceeded across the Bay Bridge. _Maybe it's a good thing Ed is here with me. If he weren't, I think I'd wring Steve's neck the moment I saw him. _Mike anger was now at a boil.

After several miles, they pulled off the highway and made their way to Sarah Goldman's home, according to the directions given by the police dispatch.

"Garden Meadows", Ed repeated. "Sounds like a condo and apartment complex. She's in 3D at the building number 3946."

"And that's his Porsche," Mike announced as he saw the brown sports car in front of the building.

"Porsche? I believe I'm going to have to transfer to Homicide soon. The pay is apparently much better than with the Chief," Ed quipped.

"He's had it for as long as I've known him," Mike tried not to respond defensively.

SOSF SOSF SOSF SOSF

The apartment building had an elevator, for which Mike was grateful. He was fit and trim, but there were days when age had caught up with him. Having a renegade partner added to his stress level and on this day, he felt older because of it.

Ed knocked on the door, not knowing what to expect. He knew that the daughter had just lost her mother the day before, so he was certain that the mood would be solemn.

A middle-aged man in a black suit answered the door. He had thick glasses and had a black ribbon pinned to his jacket.

"Are you friends of Sarah and Ruth?" the man asked.

Mike answered respectfully, "No, I'm sorry to interrupt, but we're looking for my police partner, Inspector Steve Keller. We believe he's here with Sarah." He quickly flashed his badge.

"Sure, Steve is here. Come on in." The man, Sal Fleischman, turned to lead the pair to the main living area of the apartment. Mike and Ed both noted the yamaka he was wearing and then saw the hallway mirror draped in black.

"Shiva," Ed whispered.

"What?" Mike asked in a hushed voice.

"They are in mourning and are probably 'sitting shiva'. It's a Jewish custom."

A half dozen people were sitting in the main living room, all speaking in low tones and dressed in black.

"These men are looking for Steve. Is he in the back room with Sarah still?" Fleischman asked.

No one spoke, but there were a few nods.

"Go on back. I think they are talking in the back room."

Mike and Ed nodded, and walked quietly down the hallway. Ed glanced passed the bathroom and noticed another mirror covered in black. When they reached the end of the hallway, Mike tapped on the closed door.

"Come in," said an unfamiliar male voice.

Mike slowly opened the door and stuck his head in. For reasons he didn't want to acknowledge, the senior detective wanted to ensure that everything looked 'okay' before Ed entered the room.

Steve sat on a modest stool with his hand squeezing the hand of a young woman. Sitting on a small rutan chair, Mike noticed that Sarah was a plain and somewhat overweight girl with straight hair pinned back and no make up. He looked farther down and saw braces on her legs.

An older man and woman were also present in the room, which appeared to be a bedroom that had been converted to an office. The strangers acknowledged Mike and Ed with a nod.

The young woman let out a muffled cry. Steve ignored all others and wrapped his arm around Sarah. "It's okay, Sarah," Steve said in a low, soothing voice.

"I want mama!" the woman replied with stilted speech. "She gone for good."

Steve glanced over to the door and saw his partner and Ed. He could not read the look on Mike's face, but figured he was in deep trouble with his mentor. _No matter,_ Steve thought as he looked back at Sarah. _If you have to do something, you do it._

* * *

**_a/n_**_ - the last line: "If you have to do something, you do it," was said by the Chief to Ed in "To Kill a Cop". I just recently saw this on Hulu and thought it would be a good ending to this chapter._


	6. Chapter 6

"Buddy boy, we need to talk," Mike said with a forced calmness. His blue eyes looked sharply at his partner.

Steve knew he was in trouble with his boss and simply nodded his head. "Sarah, I have to go, but I'll be back." He squeezed Sarah's hand and looked over to the couple sitting across from him.

"We'll take care of her," the woman replied.

Steve followed Mike and Ed through the apartment and down to the lobby where they found a quiet corner to speak. Sitting, facing the two officers, he nervously pulled the yamaka from his head and stuffed it in his pocket.

"Steve," Ed started, "I owe you an apology. I had assumed some other reason for you leaving the hospital like you did. Tell us about her." Mike was relieved to hear the Chief's right hand man go easy on his partner.

Steve hid a smirk as he pondered what 'some other reason' could be. He was well aware of his reputation with the ladies and regretted that had somehow become part of his professional profile. He decided to play it cool. "Well, I guess you know she's Dr. Goldman's daughter. Sarah's a special girl."

Ed continued, "Did you think Sarah was in danger?"

"No, that's not why I came here. I wanted to be here for her. I knew she'd take the news of her mom's murder hard. Ruth was all she had."

"But you were in danger. They could have followed you here." The tall, slim police sergeant became more stern in his delivery.

"As soon as Ruth's body was released by the coroner, the funeral and burial process began. I couldn't let her face that alone." Steve knew that he had breached his own good judgment, but he still defended his actions.

Ed nodded his head, but Mike was still angry at his partner's recklessness. "I don't know what the hell you were thinking, Steve. You are a target and apparently you knew that and yet, you left the hospital where at least we could keep an eye on you."

Ed let Mike vent at this partner, but then wanted to redirect the conversation back to the case. "Mike's right. You know who's behind this, don't you? With Dr. Goldman's death, you've connected the dots."

Steve nodded his head. "It has to do with the trip we took in the early summer of 1964. Dr. Goldman and several of her students took a bus down to Mississippi to help with voter registration."

Ed interrupted, "And you were one of her students?"

"No, actually I wasn't. But Joe was."

"So you were a friend of Joe's" Mike figured.

"No, I only met him on that trip. We sat together. You see, it was funny. When we all first got on the bus, the whites sat with the whites and the black sat with the blacks. Dr. Goldman didn't put up with that, so she made sure we mixed it up a little bit. So, Joe and I ended up sitting together and really got to know one another."

Mike was interested and wondered what a nineteen year old was doing on such a trip if he were not a student of the sponsoring professor or already a friend of Joplin's. But he was also impatient. "So you arrive in Mississippi. Then what?"

"Well, then Joe gets himself arrested after slugging me. You know that part of the story."

"Yes, I do." Mike flashed back to the photo he saw of a teenaged Steve with a black eye and swollen jaw.

Steve continued. "So that was the tip of the iceberg. Dr. Goldman had planted a wire on Joe and that's how they found out that one of the cops was intimating the prisoners, forcing confessions and the like. It wasn't like the whole department was in on it. It was one man who was intimidating not only the prisoners, but he was also a hired henchman of some business owners who wanted to scare people away from the registration sites."

"What happened to him?"

"The wire was the reason that he got caught. You see, Dr. Goldman turned the wire over to the FBI and not the local authorities."

"How did she get an audience with the FBI?" Ed asked.

"She had connections."

"Like who?" Ed pressed.

"At one time, she worked for a Superior Court judge. He had recognized her passion for the law and for equality. In fact, they worked together on writing briefs and opinions on civil rights cases that came up through the State of California. She got her law degree and when a spot at Berkeley became available, she was a shoo-in. One of the first female professors in her area. Through the years, she had quite a network."

"Wonderful, so the Fed gets the wire and makes an arrest." Mike studied his partner as he continued filling in the picture of the freedom trip.

"Yes, the guy was sentenced to 15 years on several charges, including voter intimidation, assault, and conspiracy"

"Do you remember his name?"

"I won't ever forget it. Harper Dean."

"And when were you going to tell me this?" Mike demanded in an authoritative manner.

"I was working on a speech…" Steve responded rather defiantly.

"Buddy boy, you have no idea…"

Steve backed off quickly. "I called Lee on my way out of the hospital. He's checking out whether he was paroled or not."

"So, Lessing is already working the lead," Ed reasoned as he tried to diffuse the time bomb ticking between the two partners.

"Sure, I wouldn't keep that to myself. I called and told him. He's the one assigned to the case, right?"

"Right," Mike said feebly. "But you should have called me anyway."

"Yes, sir," Steve responded genuinely. "But I had to come over here. I didn't want Ruth's daughter to be alone."

"You were friends with the doctor and her daughter?" Ed asked.

"The Superior Court judge she worked for was my grandfather when he was in Sacramento. She was a paralegal back then. She's known me since I was a little kid. Sarah is a little bit older than me, but really, she and I grew up together."

"So, at least you weren't coming over here because, well, you're pants were on fire." Mike regretted the question the minute he asked it.

"Oh, good lord, Mike, no. You must think all I think of when it comes to women is _that."_

"If the shoe fits…" Mike's voice raised slightly and Steve rolled his eyes.

"You're mad because I left. I'm sorry about that. I just needed to get here. She doesn't have anyone else."

"Looked like she has a whole apartment full," the senior detective countered.

"Those are some people from the synagogue and some of Ruth's coworkers. But as far as a good friend, especially a good childhood friend who's local, there's just me."

"What's wrong with her?" Ed asked rather bluntly.

"She has had a tough life. She was born with a muscular disorder. She also had some developmental delays that came from other problems."

"Where's her dad?" Ed asked, this time in a gentler tone.

"He was killed in the war, at Pearl Harbor. Ruth was stateside and pregnant with Sarah. Can you imagine losing your husband and then giving birth to a child who had birth defects? The polio came later. They think she got that from being in and out of the hospital so much."

Mike sat stoically. Selfishly, things did not sound as bad as it could have been. Steve had reason to do what he did. It's not that he thought his partner did the right thing, but at least he could understand it.

The next thing would be to call Lessing to see if he found out anything about Harper Dean. His whereabouts was now key to the entire case.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N - I know it's been a couple of months since I posted, which is a little unusual for me, but RL did take over in spades!

* * *

**Summer of Freedom**

Chapter 7

* * *

Ed and Mike returned to their car, leaving Steve at the Shiva.

Ed was somewhat relieved that there was at least a thread of logic behind Steve's abrupt departure from the hospital. Respecting the Jewish faith, Ed also knew that Ruth's burial was, by tradition, not allowed to be a prolonged affair, and therefore, the Shiva was in full swing early on. He considered Steve a smart young man, but knew there were certain times when the homicide detective could act more with his heart than his head.

Looking over to Stone, Ed realized that behind the gruff exterior, Mike had been deeply worried about his partner and wanted nothing more than to keep him out of harm's way. It would be very similar if he or Fran found themselves in a tight spot and the Chief would then play the role of the concerned boss. Indeed, Ironside came to Mark's side after shooting and would have given the shirt off his back to help the young man.

"Dispatch, put me through to Detective Lee Lessing," Mike ordered as his booming voice shook Ed back to reality. "Yes, I'll wait."

Minutes later they were well on the road. Suddenly, Lee's voice carried through the radio. "Lessing here."

"Lee, it's Stone. What did you find out about Harper Dean?"

"Harper Dean was released from the Mississippi State Penitentiary 25 days ago. He checked in with his parole officer in Jackson, but hasn't been seen since their meeting on the 21st."

"The 21st? That was only two weeks ago. The guy doesn't waste time. Any reason to believe that he is in the Bay area?"

Lee answered, "Well, there's been an APB on him in Mississippi and they haven't found a trace. Authorities have also tried to locate his brother, Billy Ray. They believe that Harper was staying with his brother. Billy Ray had a job working on a construction site. The foreman hasn't seen hide nor hair of him for about that time. I had the local police check addresses for both Billy Ray and Harper, but they found nothing."

"Good to know, Lee. I think Steve must be right about this Harper Dean. All right, I want to see an APB go out for both Harper Dean and Billy Ray Dean. Check the rental car agencies and the hotels, especially the cheap ones. Have the men flash their pictures to every hotel registration desk in the city."

"On it, Mike," Lee responded.

* * *

Mark Sanger hung up the phone that was placed on the hospital bed table and thought quietly. "Joe's funeral is tomorrow. I have to get out of here soon. Corbie needs me."

"Was that Corbie on the phone, Mark?" Officer Fran Belding asked sweetly as she leaned forward in her chair that was next to Mark's bed.

"Yes, she's holding her own, but I can tell this has devastated her."

The petite brunette thought for a moment. "Of course, it has. I can only imagine what it must be like to lose your husband – the love of your life – and then be tasked to raise your child alone. Poor thing."

Anger welled again within Mark as he too thought about the young widow's circumstance. "After all that she's been through."

"What happened?"

Mark shook his head, but then began, "Years ago, she was brutally attacked outside of her apartment building. It was awful. So, she and Joe decided to move. Where they went wasn't the greatest neighborhood, but it was better than what they had."

"And then what?"

"Crime in their new neighborhood picked up. Joe was furious, so he started to hang with dudes who wanted peace and justice. They would do just about anything to get it, if you know what I mean. He almost got into trouble over that, but fortunately Stone and Keller were there to help out. Joe decided that vigilante justice wasn't the way to go, so he started working with 'the man'. But that wasn't until after Corbie was kidnapped and threatened. I wondered then just how much she could take."

Fran sighed. "She's in my prayers."

A look of frustration fell over Mark's face. "Maybe Keller had the right idea. He split and did what he needed to do. He took care of business. "

"Now don't you get any foolish ideas, Mark," Fran warned.

The young attorney let out a slight chuckle. "Who am I kidding? The minute I get up, I'm going to fall right over unless I get a cane or a crutch," Mark looked purposely forlorn at his friend and then gave her a sheepish grin. "C'mon, Frannie, what do you say? Go see if you can find me a crutch or something."

"Your brain needs a crutch," Fran looked rather dubiously at her friend. "Tell you what. Let me see what I can do – perhaps we can get the doc to spring you from this joint."

* * *

"Come on, Harper. Enough is enough," Billy Ray proclaimed as he handed his brother one of the burgers he purchased through the new drive-thru. "Let's go back home to Mississippi. We already got Joplin and the Professor."

"Two out of three is not what I was going for here, Billy Ray. I want that kid, too. Between those three, they ruined my life. My wife left me and I have no contact with our kids. It wasn't fair!"

"But surely someone will figure out that Joplin and the Professor knew each other. It will be just a matter of time before they make a connection."

"Maybe, maybe not. The only one who could probably say anything is that kid. You know, Billy Ray, I think our best chance of getting the kid is the day of Joplin's funeral. We play our cards right and those that sent me up will get their day of reckoning. The kid is the last one."

"He ain't a kid no more, Harper. He's a cop and his buddies will be all over watching him. They stick together."

"They ain't gonna watch him all the time and they ain't gonna watch him forever."

"What are you gettin' at?"

"I figure the little pig is going to go to Joplin's funeral. After the burial, we'll follow him until he's settled in for the evening. We'll give it some time, break in and cut him while he sleeps."

"Cut? With what?"

"This baby," Harper answered as he pulled out a Bowie knife. "They're going to be expecting some sort of shooting, but it's not going to happen. This will be nice and quiet. We'll be long gone before anyone suspects a thing."


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for your continued patience and support.

* * *

Leaving a wife and child, one would expect Joe Joplin's funeral to be a sad affair. Much to the relief of many who turned out, the event was a celebration of the man's life. He was hailed as a hero by those who knew him, as well as a great father, husband and brother. The mourners came from all walks of life – neighbors, coworkers, colleagues, former classmates and the many police he knew through Steve and the neighborhood watch programs.

Mark hobbled into the parlor on one crutch as Fran walked side by side to ensure that the young man found a seat near the family. Mark found a seat near Corbie and with Fran's assistance, he sat with the family, while Chief Ironside, Ed and eventually Fran sat near the back. Steve found a spot off to the side, preferring to be just a face in the crowd and lost in his own thoughts. And while he did feel alone, he also knew that his mentor and friend was not far away. He hid a smirk recalling an earlier conversation when Mike made him wear a protective vest under his suitcoat, recognizing that the young man was very much a target.

"I don't need to do this, Mike. It's so bulky and noticeable. Why don't I just paint a giant target on my back so they'll really know it's me," Steve had protested.

"Just leave your coat on. No one will be paying any attention to you," Mike began to negotiate. When Steve rolled his eyes, again in protest, Mike's agitation showed. "Just do as I say," he responded harshly.

Mike understood Steve's restlessness and desire to be alone. He sat in the back on the opposite side of the Chief to give his partner some solitude. Nevertheless, he wanted to remain at the service mostly for Steve's safety. He knew that between the four officers observing from the last pew, any disruption would be quickly handled.

In addition to police presence at the service, the Chief had several plain clothes detectives and off duty officers positioned outside around the funeral home. They were not to be noticed. Indeed, the Chief's plan was to trick the Dean brothers into thinking no one was anticipating them.

* * *

After the service, the procession went to Holy Mount Cemetery. Again, the plain clothes officers were mixed with the mourners and blended in well. Mike and the Chief stayed near the back to observe. Ed made his way up to Steve, who again was standing off to the side. He looked like he could use a friend.

"Hey," Ed said as he found his spot standing next to Steve.

"Hey," Steve responded. He sighed and looked down.

"You okay?" Ed asked almost mechanically.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Not an easy day, though. It's hard to think that Joe's dead because of something that happened years ago that involved us both."

"You aren't blaming yourself, are you?" Ed asked.

"Maybe," Steve confessed. "Joe and Ruth were good people. It's just not fair. There's such a void that they've left behind. No one can replace them."

Ed contemplated that Steve must be realizing what it was like to be a victim in a criminal case. "You're used to being on the other side. How does it feel to be on the victim's side?"

Steve glanced over to Ed. "It's numbing. It's incredulous. Joe and Ruth were here one minute and gone the next. I think about what their last moments must have been like. Did Ruth think only of her only daughter and what would become of her? Did Joe think of his wife and child?" Steve's eyes welled at the thought.

"I imagine they did think of their loved ones. Maybe nothing else," Ed agreed.

"And then it was over. Their lives. Everything they worked for and everything they knew. You know, in some way – and don't go telling Mike this – but in some way, I wish it could have been me. I have no one that's depending on me, and there's no one who years from now will be saying, 'yeah, my dad was killed in cold blood'. If I could spare Joe's son from having that eat at him the rest of his life, I would."

"But you can't, you know that, right?" Ed said as he tried to pick up clues on how Steve was really feeling.

"I know. Nothing will ever bring them back. I guess after these few years of being a detective, I've been so often on the investigation side that I have lost sense of the anguish the victims and their families feel. In some ways, it becomes mechanical."

Ed nodded, but said nothing more. He thought back to his own situation several years before when the love of his life and fiancée' had lost her life in a brutal attack. The event ate at him still years later. Indeed, he would never be the same and would never be able to love again the way he loved her. If he could have traded places with her, he would have.

* * *

The service was over and most of the family moved on to the fellowship hall of the Joplin church for a light dinner that the congregation was providing. Mark and Fran left to join the potluck and to be with Corbie.

Steve wandered out to his Porsche with Mike following close behind. "You going to the church, Buddy boy?"

Steve sighed as he turned around. "No, I'm really tired and I just want to go home. I think the events of the last few days are catching up with me," he said as he met the concerned look of his partner. "But I'll be fine, really."

Mike felt helpless as he watched the car drive away. While he felt compelled to personally follow Steve back to his apartment, he knew that he was needed back at the station given that their caseload was increasing and that he'd been short a man the last few days.

Ironside wheeled up to the detective. "Where's he going?" he inquired.

"Home." Mike still contemplated what should be his next steps. Perhaps he could get an off duty colleague to stake out Steve's place.

Ironside motioned over to Ed. "Follow Keller. He's on his way home. Stay outside of his apartment, but be inconspicuous about it. We don't want to scare the Dean brothers away."

"You think they're still after Steve, too, don't you?" Mike asked.

"Lieutenant, I can guarantee it," he said with a frown. "Ed, don't just stand there, go!"


End file.
